


STARMAN - THE NEXT GENERATION

by Chuck S (HowNovel), Nina (HowNovel)



Series: STARMAN THE NEXT GENERATION [1]
Category: Starman (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-19
Updated: 2011-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/Chuck%20S, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowNovel/pseuds/Nina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 25th Anniversary STARMAN Fan Fiction, commemorating the airing on U.S. Network TV of the first episode of STARMAN on September 19, 1986.</p><p>Paul has aged gracefully, the chase is long since over, they've found Jenny, and Scott is married with a teenaged boy and a younger boy and girl – but this being STARMAN, two of those kids made Paul a grandfather in rather unusual ways. We wanted to reminisce, so there are many favorite references from the series. You’ll find some intriguing twists, and even a bit of Bob Hays type humor as well.</p><p>Within this universe,  a daring rescue, like no other, planned with military precision by 2 1/2 men with spheres, led by the head of the StarFamily, Paul Forrester  – Because a lot can happen in 25 years.</p><p>EDITOR'S NOTE: APPARENTLY, THIS STORY HAS BEEN HIT WITH AN AUTOMATED BOT WHICH HAS BEEN RANDOMLY AFFECTING STORIES THROUGHOUT THE PARENT ARCHIVE, SIGNIFICANTLY DISTORTING HIT COUNTS. MORE ACCURATE HIT COUNT AROUND 290 AS OF JUNE 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	STARMAN - THE NEXT GENERATION

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright September 19, 2011 by Chuck S. and Nina. All rights reserved. This story is a work of fiction based on characters and situations created in the 1984 feature film and 1986-87 television series, STARMAN. It is an amateur publication circulated without profit for the enjoyment of fellow fans. No infringement of existing copyrights is intended.

STARMAN – THE NEXT GENERATION  
By Chuck S. and Nina

###    
**Prologue: The Birth of Scotty**  


“Mayday! Mayday! This is Captain Scott Hayden-Forrester aboard WNG 617. Chopper going down. Repeat, chopper going down. Coordinates as follows….”

“What is your altitude and rate of descent, Captain?” a hollow voice responded over the radio.

“9500 feet, descending at a rate of 500 feet per minute. Controls sluggish, responding at about 25% of normal,” Scott reported.

“Your coordinates indicate you are in an area of grassy hills, with a forested region 9 miles away at 210 degrees South West. Try to reduce your descent and maintain proximity to the grassy hills if at all possible. We have help on its way, but it will take some time,” came the same calm, hollow voice.

“Roger.” Scott knew there was nothing his unit could do but come pick up the pieces.

Scott, a helicopter rescue pilot in the Wisconsin National Guard, had been flying a routine weekend training mission over the hills of the Wisconsin countryside. He was part of a unit which trained once a month in search and rescue operations should they be needed to assist in any local catastrophe. Living in Madison, he looked forward to these monthly exercises because they brought him near his parents’ country home, as well as the Hayden clan's farm, and he could join his family for a big dinner afterwards.

Like his father, a former navigator on Algeiba, his dad’s native star, Scott had finally succumbed to the urge to fly, encouraged by both his dad, and Keith, the Air Force Colonel who had become a close friend of the family. Thanks largely to their friend, Scott’s distrust of the military had long been erased. When the call went out to join National Guard personnel for help with flood relief, Scott had volunteered as his way of helping others, a trait ingrained from his father, giving back for the opportunities he had been afforded once the fugitive years had officially ended. His exemplary service had not gone unnoticed, and he was soon invited to join the Guard as an officer, and take helicopter training, an irony which did not escape the young Starman. _It’s been a long time since we were chased in these babies._ Scott had reflected.

As Scott struggled with the controls, he reached for his cell phone.

“Dad, I’m in trouble,” he said quietly.

“What’s the matter, son?” Paul asked, with concern in his voice. He was speaking into his hands-free Bluetooth cell phone and listening over the speakers in his car.

“The chopper is not responding very well, and I’ve lost upward propulsion; I can only take it down at a speed that will cause a pretty ugly crash.”

Paul pulled out his sphere and locked in on his son. “All right, I got you. I can’t prevent a crash, but I can slow you down somewhat to reduce the impact. I’m driving, so I’m on my way to you right now.”

“That’s helpful, Dad. Thanks, but we both know this doesn’t look good.” Scott’s voice faltered slightly. “I love you, Dad. Tell Mom and Lizzie, too.”

“And we love you to Algeiba and back,” his dad replied simply.

“Scott,” he said soberly, “we need to implement Algeiban Protocol 1, just in case.”

“I know, Dad. I was thinking the same thing. But I’m not clear on the procedure. I’ll need your guidance.”

Protocol 1 was the emergency procedure used by Algeibans to transfer their persona and energy essence to another body, using their own DNA, in a cloning process similar to the one used to acquire a human body when they first came to earth. Because of the risks of a youngster emerging if the process failed to complete, sufficient time was needed to clone a full adult. Scott hoped there was enough time. He pulled out his sphere and started following his dad’s directions.

“Okay. It’s a bit complex, and you have to have the sequence just right. Spit on your sphere and make sure it is fully covered by your saliva. Aim your sphere for a secluded grassy spot near the road, so I can pick up your clone quickly. For the first sequence, you start at frequency 4.95 for 4.3 seconds, followed by 5.39 for 15 seconds, 5.83 for 3 seconds, and 3.81 for 9 seconds. Got that?”

“Yeah.”

“The next sequence is 4.48 for 12 seconds, 5.76 for 18 seconds—”

“Damn!” Scott exclaimed. “I only hit 4.48 for 10 seconds.”

“All right, don’t panic. Go back to the beginning and go through it again,” Paul replied. They both knew time was of the essence.

“I’m on it. What’s after 5.76?”

“There are two more sequences; here you go….”

Scott focused on the task, all the while working the controls of his aircraft as best he could. The chopper had slowed to a descent rate of 200 feet per minute, as a result of Paul’s and his efforts, still too fast to prevent a crash and possibly too fast to clone an adult 30 something.

“Got it!” he cried out triumphantly, and an infant appeared suddenly in the tall grass below. “Do we still have enough time?”

“It’s very tight,” Paul admitted. Paul knew the growth of an infant into an adolescent took the longest, and growing into an adult clone from there occurred more rapidly once their adult body frame was formed, but the time varied with each individual. It was out of their hands. Deep down, Paul didn’t like their chances.

The helicopter continued to descend, and in the last few seconds before impact, Scott called out again, “I love you so much, Dad.”

“And I you, Scott,” Paul replied quietly, tears in his eyes. These days, people did cry when somebody died where he came from. _Will I see you again?_ He thought sadly. _You'll always be a part of me._

The helicopter hit on its side, one of its blades knocked off by the impact with the grassy hillside, its tail mangled, and the doors smashed, but the cabin otherwise intact. An anxious Paul arrived almost simultaneously and saw a young boy about 10 years of age stand up dazedly, watching the miraculous emergence of his uninjured older self from the twisted and smoking wreckage.

Paul raced to the scene, scooped up his instant grandson and placed the boy gently in the car. He threw him a beach towel, and helped his son into the car before anyone else could arrive to notice. Only after they were enroute home had he dialed 911, reporting that Scott had been the sole occupant of the helicopter, was merely shook up, and would be available at Paul’s residence. Scott called his unit, hearing the cheers at the other end.

After a quick trip to the outlet mall, and the boys’ clothing department at Old Navy, they returned to Paul and Jenny’s home, where Jenny had calmly welcomed the newcomer into the family. Scott wondered if young Scotty would remember and use some of the old expressions the boy’s older self had used when he was young, special ones, like, “You’re okay, Dad.” Then later, "You’re more than okay.” He remembered those scenes on the beach and the train station as if it were yesterday. 

Now, several months later, Scotty, aided by his dad’s memories compressed into a 10 year-old’s consciousness, behaved as if he had always been a part of the family, which indeed he had. The boy did marvel, sometimes, at how his dad so often seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.

###    
**Chapter 1 - Present Day, 6 Years later**

3 year-old Grace Hayden-Forrester was happily having a tea party with her mom. Scott always marveled at how Gracie looked like his sister at that age. Liz (still Lizzie to the family) was now an Olympic gymnast, away at college. In addition to the Stargirl, his wife, Julie, and his cloned 16 year-old son, Scott Junior (Scotty to his younger siblings), Scott’s StarFamily included 5 year-old Desmond, recently adopted from Algeiba. Des was orphaned when a nearby star went supernova; his parents were heroes who died protecting Paul’s native star. The Starboy was still learning English and Earth customs.

“More tea, Mommy?” Gracie encouraged, pretending to sip elegantly out of her tiny teacup.

“Thank you, honey”

“This is a special party ‘cause we’re celebrating the blue ribbon I got in ‘gymisnastics’ today, so we got cake too, Mommy − chocolate or strawberry shortcake. Which one do you want first?”

“My, you’re such a good hostess, and so thoughtful just like your daddy. And athletic just like Scotty and Aunt Lizzie, and a good cook, too, just like your mommy! I’d like to try some strawberry shortcake, please, with whipped cream.” Julie suddenly realized her “just like your mommy” comment sounded just like Grandma Stella talking to the 14 year old original Scott all those years ago in Todd’s videos she had watched of the family’s early history.

Gracie beamed at her mom’s praise and enjoyed the thought of being just like the most important people in her life. The little girl elaborately mimed cutting the pretend cake, placing a large slice on a pretend plate and setting it in front of her mom with a pretend dessert fork and extra pretend napkin. “There you go, Mommy. Enjoy.” She then served a pretend slice to the real teddy bear and the real stuffed bunny Scotty had gotten her sitting on either side of her.

“Mmm. I certainly am. This is delicious. I’ll tell all my friends to come visit you another time to enjoy tea and cake. But now it’s time for you to take a nap, so I’ll be going now. Mommy has to go to the Gallery for a while, but if you need anything, Daddy is in his study.”

“Okay.”

Gracie happily climbed upstairs to her room. Deciding to check on what her big brother was doing, she knocked on his door.

The 16 year old Scott yelled out, “Not now, Gracie. I’m practicing with my sphere.”

“I wanna play, Scotty!” the 3 year old exclaimed.

As was customary with all Algeiban kids when reaching age 10, much as wizards got wands at age 11 in another universe, Scott possessed an innate genetic ability to channel the energy from their star into a nice, shiny new ball of compressed portable energy. In 6 years, he had become far more proficient with a sphere than his father had been at his age. At the moment, he was replicating the portal Paul had created many years ago in “Starscapes,” which had enabled Jenny to appear to his dad when he was just a teen while the search for her was still on, a particularly complex task.

“No, Gracie, don’t come in,” Scott yelled warningly.

But it was too late. Gracie quickly ran into his room and jumped into the portal just as the gateway was closing behind her. Not realizing she was supposed to continue through when the gateway on the other side opened, she ended up caught in the energy field of the portal.

“Gracie!” Scott called out urgently. Feverishly, he tried to reopen the portal, but knew the increasing ion flow meant he couldn’t manage it by himself. He ran to find his dad.

Scott Senior immediately pulled out his own sphere to locate his darling daughter. Several tense minutes went by as he searched for her wavelength. Eventually, Scott found Gracie stuck in a limbo-like area inside the portal, but seemingly fine and surprisingly, not at all scared, as if she completely expected them to find her. Using his sphere as a transmission path to enable her Algeiban telepathy to receive the message, Scott tried to communicate to her, but he encountered considerable interference. All she had to do was turn around and push real hard on the gateway on the left side at about the height where a door handle would be on a normal door. But she was so little, and while she wanted to oblige, she could not really understand his instructions to try to get her unstuck.

Younger Scott became increasingly frustrated but tried to remain patient and calm. He used his sphere and locked in to Gracie as well, hoping the amplified transmission would enhance her telepathic ability and enable her to understand them better. The Scotts kept trying, but met with little success getting her to understand what she had to do. The signal was clearer, but the comprehension was not.

“It would work if she would just do what you said,” Scott Junior told his dad.

“Dude, she’s 3. She’s not developmentally capable of getting it.” Scott the Elder sighed. He pulled out his cell phone and called his dad, putting the call on speaker so his son could participate as well.

Paul picked up the phone.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hi ya, Scott, what’s up?”

After Scott apprised his dad of the situation, Paul was silent for a moment.

“Looks like I have to go get her, Granddad,” Younger said with a mix of pride and trepidation.

“Not just yet, young Jedi.”

“Dad, there’s no other way,” Elder chimed in. “One of us has to go.”

“It’s no big deal, Granddad, even a 3 year old can do it!” Younger added, bringing a small chuckle from everyone, despite the gravity of the situation.

“That may be,” Paul replied, “but we’re dealing with some powerful energy here, and we don’t know how stable that limbo is; we have no idea what inserting another body into that brew of plasma energy would do. Needless to say, I’m not about to risk either my son’s or grandson’s lives until we have explored every other possible means to save Gracie.”

Paul added, “I’m going to contact my buddy on Algeiba, and see if he can find any research on how to extricate someone from that limbo. Don’t worry; we know that portal lasts for at least 2 hours. He’ll get back to us soon. In the meantime, your mom and I will head to your place. I suspect we’ll need all of our sphere power to complete the rescue mission successfully and safely. We’ll find her,” he concluded, sounding just like he did during the search for Jenny.

Scott called his wife and told her what happened. Like anyone in the StarFamily, Julie took the news calmly, and said she’d be right home, confident her men with spheres would resolve it.

###    
**Chapter 2 – Hatching the Rescue Plan**  


“Gracie, are you still there?” Younger addressed his sphere. Then, as he saw a tiny prone figure curled on the ground he said, “Oh my God, is she—” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Gracie!” Elder called loudly through his own sphere.

The tiny Starchild stirred slightly, and vaguely aware of a familiar adult male voice, murmured, “Daddy.”

“She fell asleep,” he told his son. “Little kids! Don’t wake her up yet. Just keep an eye on her.”

Scott Jr. kept Gracie in his sphere. Before long, the youngest Starchild was waking up, rubbing her eyes in the murky, semi-bright light of her private limbo.

The teenaged Scott did not want her to be traumatized, and began speaking soothingly as he gazed at his sister in his sphere.

“Hungry,” came back a muffled voice. “Where’s Mommy?”

Her dad enlisted an assistant. “When I talk to her in English, you tell her in Algeiban, okay, Des?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Des agreed happily, proud to be helping. Algeiban was largely a telepathic language and one that all young Starchildren understood instinctively without necessarily knowing it. This was how Des had known the Easter bunny at the party he had attended several months ago was fake, because there were no vibes. Of course, Scott the Elder had learned Algeiban as an adult, but since even his 5 ½ year old son was correcting his accent now, and he didn’t want to scare his daughter, he decided to see if Des could interpret.

“Gracie, I’m sorry that there’s no way we can get anything to eat to where you are right now, but we’re going to get you home to Mommy and Daddy as soon as we can, okay?”

Proceeding to relay the message, Des translated her thoughts back. “She say she understand.”

“Wait, what’s she doing now?” Elder Scott asked as the youngest Starchild executed first a forward somersault and then a backwards one.

“Cool,” Younger Scott said. “She’s pretty good for a 3 year old.”

“I know. That’s cute, but if she gets hurt in there or bodily runs into something, we could have a catastrophic blowup,” his dad pointed out.

“Oh, yeah,” his teenaged son recalled, not used to thinking like a parent.

“Daddy, I sing with her,” Des volunteered.

“You can do that too, Des. Just not the Algeiban anthem, please,” his father requested. Having adopted an extremely patriotic Starboy, Scott the Elder had already heard that music far too many times for one lifetime.

“What anthem mean?”

“That song you sing with Granddad about ‘our ancient and glorious star.’”

“That nice song,” Des said. “Why I not sing it with Gracie?”

“Because she was born on Earth and doesn’t know it.”

“Then I teach her,” Des replied matter-of-factly.

“Not now. Now, just tell her it’s not safe for her to do gymnastics where she is and to please stop.” Scott Senior changed the subject.

Des obeyed. Then, “She not happy.”

“I know, but it can’t be helped. Why don’t you teach her one of your songs from school, Des? Then when Gracie is old enough to go to kindergarten, she’ll be so smart.” Scott Sr. suggested.

Des started singing, urging Gracie to join in. He alternated songs with several stories he remembered from Algeiban nursery rhymes to keep her calm and occupied before switching to the winning song from the Scotty he liked on American Idol. He often sang it to his dad: “I Love You This Big!” Scott Junior kept Gracie in his sphere for visual supervision, and occasionally told a story himself whenever Des paused for breath. For the moment at least, the smallest Starchild seemed content with the attention from her brothers, forgetting her hunger and predicament.

Paul and Jenny arrived in their trusty blue Forester. Julie arrived a few moments later.

“Dad, what’ve you got?” Scott Sr. burst out, as they all convened around the dining room table.

“It’s tricky, but after talking with my friend on Algeiba just now, I think we can get Gracie out of there, hopefully in time to avoid any serious consequences.”

Everyone expressed a small sigh of relief.

“How much time do we have,” Julie asked?

“I’ve calculated we have another two and a half hours from now, plus another 15 minutes max with some help from our spheres. Here’s the thing. Think of crossing through the portal like crossing the Panama Canal.”

“We were there,” Scott Senior commented, recalling the cruise he took his family on last year.

“Yeah, getting into the lock and watching the water pour in to raise the ship to the higher level of the lake on the other side was cool,” Younger Scott chimed in. Paul had come up with a good analogy everyone could understand.

“Yep, that’s exactly how crossing through the portal works,” Paul continued. “We know the portal allows us to place a person into a space warp enabling that person to visualize someone far away as if they were also present, and sense their thoughts. That portal is like a lock in the Canal. Gateways on each side open into our universe and the space warp, but are usually closed until you enter. Once you create the portal and cross the gateway from our universe, that gateway behind you closes automatically, and technically, you’re trapped in a limbo universe inside the portal, which starts filling up with ions and other charged particles, or taking them away to equalize the density of ions in your body with the density in the space warp. Then the other gateway opens and you pass through. It closes immediately thereafter.”

“The Algeibans have been researching physically crossing over to reach the other side of the space warp, the locale where the person you’re communicating with is, and not just projecting thoughts across - kind of like the teleporter from Star Trek. But they still haven’t been able to get the remote portal to do its job quickly enough to enable any of them to cross over. Apparently each pass through requires a large number of ions being pumped in or taken away in a very short time in both locations. The Algeibans can’t harness sufficient power, the ion flow stops without the process being fully completed, neither portal opens, and they wind up getting stuck like Gracie is. So the good news for us is they actually have a procedure to rescue those poor folks unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of another failed experiment.”

“That’s helps us understand a lot,” Scott Senior commented.

Paul resumed. “You were right, Scott, about how simple it would have been for Gracie to just turn around, and reach out and try to push the gateway open. Or if she walked straight ahead, ending up in the Space Warp, Scott Jr. could then create a new portal and bring her back in the usual way. Because the right number of ions had been poured in, either gateway could be opened manually for a short time thereafter. It opens with enough pressure, although I don’t know if she would have been strong enough. This is a fail-safe mechanism the scientists built into the technology, but they could only design it to work for about the first 10 minutes while in the limbo area because ions continually dissipate. Of course, in their case, they’ve never had the chance to use it for teleporting to the other location because they still can’t get enough ions in or out. All those ions jumping around obviously made it impossible for Gracie to hear incoming thoughts clearly, even with Des’ amplified telepathic abilities every Algeiban child has.”

“The limbo area remains stable for 2 hours, which is why I figure we have only another hour and a half left,” Paul stated, looking at his watch. "All the while, the portal is starting to dissolve. After 2 hours, it’s dissolved enough to start scattering the remaining ions between our universe and the space warp, which are assimilated harmlessly in each. Unfortunately, anyone caught inside the portal at that point would implode, having neither the right number of ions for either place, and that would probably be enough of a disturbance to destroy our universe and the space warp as well.”

After a stunned silence, Elder Scott said, “We better get to work then. What’s the plan, Dad?”

Paul sighed. “I wish it could be done with just someone running in and grabbing her and moving on. Unfortunately, it takes a bit of a task force to pull it off safely because just opening the portal at this point would have all those ions in there rushing right at you at a speed and pressure too fast to absorb. It would be like opening the door to find a guy with an assault rifle opening fire at you. You’d never know what hit you.”

Scott the Younger shuddered, and glanced at his grandfather with a silent look of thanks for nixing his heroic offer.

“We first need to locate the limbo Gracie is stuck in, then have one person create a new portal between our universe and into her limbo. Our limbo would then equalize with her limbo, and we can get in there. Once we’re in, it’s like any other search and rescue mission you do all the time, son. The problem will be we don’t know where in the three dimensional limbo space she is, because the ions will disorient our spheres.” Paul continued. “I’ll be burdened down by some equipment, so the Scotts should work the standard buddy system in scuba diving, which in effect is what we’re doing, only investigating among ions instead of frolicking with fish.”

“How do we locate her limbo?” Elder Scott inquired.

“Well, we need to get ahold of a mass spectrometer, using the detector to measure ion densities all around the house and grounds. Then, create the new portal from the street directly to the area of the surge. We’ll also need to use this device later, once we’re in, to measure the ion density in Gracie’s limbo, so we know how much is dissipating. If we get to the point of imminent implosion, we can hold off the end of our universe for a few last precious minutes more by pumping in some small amount of ions manually with the ion creator. Since I know how to use a mass spectrometer, I’m the one for this job. That also means I’ll be limited in our range while we search for Gracie, since I’ll have to detach the detector and take it with me so I can continue to monitor the readings while I search, yet stay relatively close by the mass spectrometer so I can reach it quickly if I have to.”

“Where are you going to get one of those on short notice?” Scott Junior asked.

“Let me call Keith,” Paul replied. “If anyone can get ahold of one, it would be him, and he lives close enough in Madison to get there and come back here within our timeframe. Meanwhile, you guys work on the sphere sequence for the new portal."

“The Colonel - of course.” Scott Sr. answered knowingly. “Yeah, that should work,” he agreed.

Paul continued. "The whole device is huge. Remember, we don’t need the analyzer part of the mass spectrometer, since our spheres can do the analysis. That’s all the computer gear, so we’ll just want the big tank-like apparatus. The detector is mounted on top.”

Thinking of the many cases she had heard solved using a cell phone’s GPS, Julie asked, “Paul, is there any way you can get our girl to broadcast some kind of beacon telepathically?”

Scott Senior shook his head, but Paul suddenly had a thought. “Wait a minute; if I remember correctly, whenever we transmitted colorful images telepathically to little children on Algeiba, a slight blue glow around their beings could be detected some distance away.”

“And that gives me an idea. Why don’t I paint some quick very colorful pictures for Des to transmit to Gracie?” Jenny suggested.

“Brilliant, Gran!” Scott Junior exclaimed. “Then all we have to do is search for the Blue Lights.”

“Yeah. Kinda like that time we searched for the missing witness when you were 14, remember, Scott?” Paul reminisced.

Thinking of his granddaughter’s potty training, Paul mentioned, “We probably ought to bring a change of clothes."

“Well, she’s good most of the time,” Julie replied with a smile, “but it’s a great idea just in case."

Paul responded, adding, “Scott, have Des tell Gracie to hold it in as long as possible, but if she really has to go, to make sure absolutely nothing leaks out. She would need to go just a few drops at a time, so it absorbs in her clothing. We really don’t want foreign organic matter to be interacting with all those ions.”

Des started to giggle. No one had ever said it was okay to pee in their pants before.

Paul decided he needed to wrap this up. “Okay, we need to get moving. I’ll call Keith right now, and meet him to pick up the mass spectrometer. We have a tight window to save a hungry little girl, lost and liable to kick a hole in Limbo at any time, or get scared and start crying, inserting another foreign substance into the environment, and on top of all that, she has to pee.”

Des laughed out loud, and the rest of the family tried to hide smiles.

“Or worse,” Scott Junior added mischievously.

###    
**Chapter 3 – It Takes About 20 years to Procure a Mass Spectrometer**  


Paul jumped in the Forester, and called Keith - “The Colonel” as the StarFamily knew him. It was a most unexpected friendship, but one that went back over 20 years. Driving to Keith’s, Paul recalled when he had first met the man who had changed their lives forever, and became a close family friend. His mind went back to a day indelibly etched into his consciousness:

__

_As the newly appointed head of the FSA, the Colonel had decided to accompany his subordinate, George Fox, on another supposed sighting of the Starman and his son. This time it was real, and Paul and Scott soon found themselves in a small interrogation room, deep within Area 51, which, of course, didn’t exist. Told the new head of the FSA would be arriving soon with their decades-old nemesis, they weren’t liking their chances._

__

_Fox entered the room, and couldn’t contain his glee. Gloating like he had personally just won the Super Bowl, Fox started trash talking in a loud voice. The Colonel, quiet and professional, finally said, “George, why don’t you wait in the car. I want to talk to these people alone.”_

_Fox paused in the midst of a particularly distasteful diatribe, and said, “With all due respect, Sir, I’ve waited half of my life for this moment, and I’m going nowhere.”_

_The Colonel’s eyes flashed for barely a second. “Mr. Fox, if you don’t remove yourself from these premises this instant, I’ll have you removed forcibly.”_

_Stunned, Fox could only reply sullenly, “Yes, Sir.” He left quickly, slamming the door behind him._

_The Colonel addressed the fugitives. “I apologize for my subordinate’s behavior, and I will deal with it later. Do either of you have any statement you’d like to make to me?”_

_Scott, a young adult now, who had learned a few things about assertiveness and the art of persuasion, immediately jumped in, “Yes Sir, I do.”_

_With a nod from his dad, Scott pressed forward. “Do you believe in persecution, Colonel? Is it so impossible to believe that another species can visit Earth and not have hostile intentions toward the people here?”_

_The Colonel, well-educated and trained about the possibilities of extra-terrestrial life responded, “You look pretty intelligent. Have you read Stephen Hawking’s theory that posits the odds are extremely high that any alien beings who visit here are probably here to mine our resources or otherwise exploit the Earth? Or else, why spend all the resources to come here? He’s an extremely prominent man in his field.”_

_Scott came right back, impressed with this Colonel, who wasn’t what he expected. An intellectual military man sounded like an oxymoron. “He also theorizes about multiple universes. With so many universes, and the already immense number of stars and planets in this one situated in the zone capable of intelligent life, the number of extra-terrestrials who could come here in peace is also high. Like all scientists, Mr. Hawking uses mathematical models to calculate percentages and deduces probabilities and cosmic theories from that. Let’s say he’s concluded there’s a 90% probability that any alien visitor to earth will be hostile. But if we shift the argument to absolutes, as I suspect you have, let’s say 10% of billions of stars and billions more planets of stars might host life because they are in a temperate zone like Earth’s. If 10% of those aliens are peaceful, that means there are an awful lot of friendly extra-terrestrials out there.” He smiled slightly, “They might even provide a defense against those which are not.”_

_The Colonel’s demeanor didn’t change, but inwardly, he was impressed._ This kid knows his stuff. 

_“Let me tell you about the beings from Algeiba, my dad’s home star,” Scott continued earnestly. “You’ve seen what they can do when we were captured in Arizona and escaped. Although the destruction of property was against his Algeiban nature, my dad wiped out a room full of high tech equipment in an instant. Why? Because self-preservation, like human rights, is universal. Go back in Fox’s file. You’ll find he miraculously recovered from all traces of heart disease, when the only person around was my dad. How do you think that happened? If my dad were truly malevolent, would he have healed his worst enemy? Algeibans can do all of these things and more. They’re a force for good in this universe, not objects of prey or specimens for lab study. If Algeibans really were a threat to Earth, don’t you think they would have come in far greater numbers and asserted their dominance long ago? Why persecute a single foreigner for the crime of wanting to help his son?”_

_Paul commented, “One of the great strengths of this country is its respect for individuals, their rights and protections afforded under the Constitution. In pursuing us all this time, Mr. Fox has trampled on the very principles he swears to uphold. We had a conversation once about children. I told him that “Children are the hope of your species,” His bias came out when he exploded, ‘Human children, not your alien seed.’ Can you tell me, Colonel, how do his comment and beliefs differ from the discrimination your government and any intelligent beings repudiate? Why are we so different? Aren’t we entitled to the same due process and probable cause protection afforded to any of your people? You know we’ve committed no harm against any human on this planet.”_

_Paul went on. “Do you have any children, Colonel?”_

_The Colonel nodded. “A son.”_

_“And do you love him?”_

_The Colonel was about to nod automatically, but paused and looked carefully at the Starman and his son instead. He recognized sincerity and common values when he saw them. He then replied, “I see where you’re going, and I appreciate both of you expressing what’s now obvious. I’m letting you go and terminating this witch-hunt as of now. And Mr. Fox, who will be unemployed shortly, will also receive a permanent restraining order protecting you and your family from him ever getting near you. Gentlemen, it’s been very good getting to know you.”_

Back in the present, Paul’s recollection of the beginning of a close friendship had flashed through his mind in mere moments. A few minutes later, he was at his old friend’s house.

“Great to see you, Paul,” the Colonel said. “Let’s go pick it up. My Air Force buddy is chairman of the physics department at the University of Wisconsin.”

Responding to Keith’s allusion to his military days, Paul simply said, “Thank you for your service to our country.”

The Colonel nodded, staring into Paul’s eyes, and conveying to Paul that he knew the comment went far deeper than a pleasant generality. “Paul, when you guys go through the portal, just drive on through in your Forester, with the trailer behind,” was all he said. It was enough.

###    
**Chapter 4 – Rescue!**  


As the two Scotts started sweeping the limbo area for their lost daughter and sister, the young adult spoke to the teen. “I’m glad Granddad has pretty high confidence in your sphere abilities to put you on this part of the job. Creating those portals is pretty tough.”

“Yeah,” the young teen replied. “He told me once, I was like Harry Potter, and few other kids on Algeiba could do the things with a sphere I could at my age, just like Harry creating his Patronus at so young an age.”

“Yeah, it took me a few years to figure out that sphere.”

The teen grinned. “I know, Dad. I watched Todd’s DVD’s. You were pathetic!”

It was the elder Scott’s turn to grin. He looked thoughtful. “You realize you and I now are about the same ages as Granddad and I were back 25 years ago?”

Younger Scott nodded. “The thought’s occurred to me.”

“This is just like the old days. Only instead of Dad and me working together to get out of a jam, now I’m the dad, and it’s you and me, kiddo.”

" _ **Starman, the Next Generation.**_ Wow! That show would be a fitting 25th anniversary commemoration,” the teenaged Scott exclaimed. “I’d watch it!”

The younger Starman stared at his teenaged son, smiled, and replied with an old refrain his dad had used on him a quarter century ago, “Double Wow!”

Just then, a flicker of blue lights appeared in the distant ether. In seconds, they were hugging a non-plussed little girl, who had been patiently awaiting their arrival.

“Hang on,” Gracie exclaimed. “Des is singing the ‘Glorious Algeiba’ song! It’s pretty!”

The two rescuers glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. _That’s a 3 year old for you,_ they shared without even having to voice the thought aloud, _Not exactly great with her priorities!_

Well aware of the urgency of time, her dad knew allowing her to stay another minute or two would be dangerous, and they couldn’t accede to her request. “Gracie, we’ve got to go. _Right Now!_ ” he emphasized.

“Des will sing the whole song from the beginning for you as soon as we get back, okay?” her brother added. They gently led the young girl, who was happily humming the tune of the pretty song she had just learned, to the Forester.

Their jubilation turned to shocked disbelief at the scene awaiting them. Paul appeared stuck to the mass spectrometer, his sphere a deep blue glow of a shade neither of the two younger sphere bearers had seen before. It appeared the older Starman had activated the apparatus to start pumping ions into the limbo area, using his sphere as a power source, but somehow, he had been sucked to the transmitter pump of the ion creator and couldn’t break free. From the look of tension on Paul’s face, the Scotts knew they needed to act quickly. Despite his predicament, Paul, hearing Gracie humming the Algeiban anthem, looked at the Scotts and smiled tersely.

“Hey, you guys, over here,” Paul called out. “Some kind of short circuit occurred, and we’ve only got a few minutes before we lose it.”

“Hi Granddad,” Little Gracie cried out, oblivious to the drama going on in front of her.

“Hi ya, Gracie, glad you’re safe,” Paul replied. His voice was strained, but he purposely kept it upbeat for the benefit of his little granddaughter. “You’re humming that song real well. We’ll have you out of here real soon. Okay, sweetie?”

“What can we do?” Scott Sr. asked, knowing exactly what his dad was implying.

“Combine your two spheres and beam it into the other end of this device,” Paul called out. “Big Scott, use frequency 6.17; young Scott, combine his beam with yours at 5.28. Hurry, guys.”

“I’ve never used that high a frequency before. Tell me how,” the younger Starman said with some trepidation. “I don’t want to blow us up beforehand,” he added grimly.

“No time. Young Scott, I know you’ve never gone that high either, but it’s a lot like what we were doing at 6.02 the last time you visited us. Use what I showed you then as the basis for going just a bit higher. You’re young and have more energy than any of us. Elder Scott, you follow him at 5.28 as soon as he connects.”

“But that was a while ago!” Scott the Younger exclaimed. The teen started to sweat profusely as he focused at the daunting task of soaring higher than he had ever thought possible with a sphere. With an immense grunt that came with pouring out every last particle of effort his body could produce, he then let out a roar of satisfaction, “Yeahhhhh!”, and collapsed dazedly, while holding his sphere steady on its target. He could feel his hand burning like his dad’s used to do, but for far different reasons. Elder Scott quickly followed with his task, and Paul ripped himself away from the mass spectrometer’s grip. Quickly they grabbed Gracie, who was watching the proceedings with awe at all the pretty shades of blue and purple the spheres were producing. The Forester roared to life, and with just moments to spare, they made it back home, as the portal fully dissolved.

###    
**Epilogue**  


Once out of the portal, safely in the main universe again, everyone celebrated by munching on Gran Jenny’s cookies, as well as several other delectable treats she had put together, while Julie fixed them her trademark stracciatella (chocolate chip) gelato root beer float, reminding everyone that the Italian version of ice cream was creamier and tastier because it had less air than traditional American ice cream. Gracie vowed to serve gelato at her next tea party.

Paul took the 16 year old aside. “I knew you could do it. You need to know 6.20 was the point at which Des’ first father died fighting the supernova that threatened Algeiba. When your dad said he hadn’t gone anywhere near 6.17 before, I had no choice but to have you risk it, or we and the limbo universe would have died. I knew you were young enough and strong enough to pull it off, so I wasn’t worried, but you are just as big a hero as Des’ first dad is to the beings of Algeiba. Congratulations.” He gave the teen a bear hug and held him tightly for a long time. “Obviously we can’t talk about it, so you’ll never get the credit you deserve, but the StarFamily knows.” Thinking back to when his own son needed parental guidance, Paul then admonished sternly in a fatherly tone, “And next time, Scott, lock your door!” as the teen grinned ruefully.

Paul thought about how young Desmond, obsessed with heroes of all sorts, must relish this. “We got lots of heroes in our family, Granddad,” Des would say. “Yes, we do, Des.” Paul would reply with pride and joy far more profound than a usual grandfather. For 25 years, the Starman had lived on Earth as a human being. He was truly Paul Forrester now and Earth was unquestionably his home. After the chase was over, he, Jenny, Scott, and later his beautiful daughter, Lizzie, had worked hard to rebuild their family, their careers and their lives as ordinary and peaceful citizens. For many years now, life had been good. His and Jenny’s family now had another adult Starman, a Starwoman in college, a teen who showed every promise of surpassing his father and grandfather in sphere prowess, and other young Stargrandchildren, all infused with the values he had brought from his native star. He was proud of all of them, just as he was proud to be an Algeiban and a citizen of Earth.

The younger Starman came up to his adolescent son. “Thanks, Dude,” he said simply.

Scott Junior thought for a moment and then replied, “How long do you think you’d last without me to take care of you?”

They smiled knowingly, put their arms around each other’s shoulders, and walked toward the setting star that was their sun, a fitting sight, indeed.

 _Starman the Next Generation_ had been born.

###    
**Postscript:**  


We created this story as our commemoration of the 25th Anniversary of the commencement of the Starman TV show in September 1986, which has inspired a plethora of fan fiction, an international fan club, and numerous pleasurable hours for so many of us. The story is our vision of what happened to those two lone characters in 25 years, influenced inevitably by the formative events of the episodes depicted on TV and the movie. It provides a study of how all our characters react to a crisis in the current day, how they bring their own skills, experience, and perceptions, but common values, to dealing with issues in their universe, and above all, how they interact with each other. In planning the story, we wanted to introduce a new generation (i.e., Scott now an adult dealing with his own teenaged son with powers, as well as his other Starchildren) that paid full respect to the entire Starman mythology and canon. Life goes on, but often comes full circle, if not exactly a concentric one. 

Our full, but not quite concentric circles, include starting the story with a helicopter crash, just like in the series; choosing Wisconsin for the locale, where it all started in the movie; cloning an infant, harkening back to an infant clone evolving into a Starman in the movie; depicting a Starboy coming to Earth instead of the childlike Starman, where once again Scott deals with his young son's feelings and acclimation, much as he had to deal with his father's feelings and acclimations to life on Earth; having Scott experience single parenthood in raising Scott Junior, before finally marrying and having a daughter with Julie, and later adopting an orphan child from his dad's home star; and the quintessential element of STARMAN, a father-son Starman team and loving relationship, that culminates in the iconic quotation and scene from the series. 

We included some humor, just like in the series, combined with a more subtle purpose. It was important that the adult Scott encounter and readily embrace the trappings of parenthood, particularly with a very young child, since his two other encounters involved becoming a parent to older children - a 10 year old and a 5 year old. Hence his parental concern about his daughter falling; he makes remarks about very young kids, and experiences that quintessential aspect of parenthood, potty problems. Note though, that it’s Grandpa Paul, now fully versed in human biological development, who brings it up, because he’s concerned with the science of catastrophic chemistry, as a being from an explosive star should. 

The backstories of all 3 new Starchildren, each becoming a Starchild in their own way, with only one coming into being "the old fashioned way", could be the basis for future stories. Paul’s comment about Algeiban family values will be dominant though, regardless of origin.

In our new characters, Scott's much younger sister born after the chase (only referred to in this story, but a significant character in our other published stories), his elder son and clone, Scott Junior, his younger son adopted from his father's star and his daughter, born on Earth the usual human way, we were able to open the door to exploring all kinds of interesting questions about how Starchildren, each in slightly different circumstances from each other, and vastly so from Scott of the series, might grow up if they were able to know from early on that they were Starchildren, if they had had an intact family without all the moving around, disruption, fear, angst and loneliness that Scott experienced, if they were able to be encouraged to take pride in that part of their heritage from the very beginning without being branded as "alien seed." 

What would that mean for Scott and his mother and particularly his father, who was the one who left his culture behind? What would it mean for him to have technology advance in 25 years so he could communicate more easily with his star, to be safe enough to speak of his star openly to his family and teach them about it, to have an adopted grandson with whom to sing the Algeiban anthem? Yes, all of these developments and references to Algeiba are, on the surface, very different from what you might have been expecting from a STARMAN story, but intentionally so, to emphasize that the long years of struggle for the Starman and Jenny that began with Scott's conception in the movie and continued in the series 15 years later, are over. Not gone-- those experiences will always influence them as happens with real people. But they have survived and eventually thrived. As Starman predicted in the movie long ago, Scott has grown to manhood. He is a teacher to his children, who now proudly help him and their grandfather to bridge Earth and their ancestral star.

Incidentally, someone asked why the clone didn’t become Paul’s son. The answer is the age difference – had the cloning process been interrupted when the clone had reached, say 28 years old, he would have more logically been assigned to Paul as his son because the 30 something Scott couldn’t have a son only 5 years or so younger, either legally or biologically. Most states require a minimum 15 year age difference for adoption. Also, it was Scott doing the cloning, not Paul. Psychologically, we think Scott would experience more paternal than fraternal feelings toward this child.

We hope you enjoyed the story, and thank you for the tremendous interest we've received in "The Next Generation".

Chuck & Nina, September 2011, revised March 2012


End file.
